Bleeding Wounds

From years ago:
I work in an emergency room, and I'm sometimes assigned to help the triage nurse take initial vital signs, medical history, etc. A few times, I have encountered patients covered with blood, cradling a wound they had bandaged themselves prior to entering the waiting room. The story is always different: Broken crockpot, Stingray bite. Car accident. Tripped and fell. But the patients are the same. Scared, helpless, in pain, hoping for the right kind of help and healing. They tell me that it has been bleeding, they are not sure if it has stopped, and they think they need stitches.

When we bring them back into the ER, we have to remove their makeshift bandages, usually towels or clothing (not necessarily the most sterile of items). They are apprehensive. They do not want to feel pain or risk of seeing or opening the wound again. But they trust. In order to start the healing, we have open their bandages to assess the extent of the damage, clean the cuts, scrapes, gashes, partial amputations, and treat accordingly with bandaids, sutures, staples, antibiotics, or surgery.

Today's takeaway:
I recently had a conversation with my cousin about the importance of being vulnerable in our romantic relationships. She is a self-professed queen of self-help, and recommended a book on the very subject. My dilemma is that I'm afraid to take off the bandages and expose my wounds. Until I do, I don't think I'll be able to heal.